Nick came home last night after a long shoot in California. We were all excited to see him and had hoped that the homecoming was going to be the best yet. As promised on Father's Day, I had gotten both the children moved into the same room and for the most part, both were sleeping soundly through the night while he was away. Finn still wakes up really early and Poppie prefers to be more of a nightowl, but we were there! And then, beyond all control (which is what parenting is really all about, isn't it?), a series of events led Nick's homecoming to be one of the hardest yet. Why? Read on...
I thought Finn needed a tiny little trim. His luscious locks were getting out of control and even he was complaining about his hair in his eyes. So, I did what any (not) normal mother does and got out the sharpest pair of scissors I own (sewing shears) and did a little trim. Too short on one side so I had to shorten the other. And then that side was even shorter than the other and so I had to cut some more. Luscious locks? Gone.
A funny side story? Nick loves Finn's hair long and wild. Despite the fact that he used to complain to his mother that all the baby pictures of him make him look like a girl because she also loves luscious locks. (For the record the complaining happened when he was younger and you cared about things like that.)
Moving on.
Daddy came home at an hour when the kids are usually at their most rambunctious and I not ready for bed, Mommy so I thought it would be a fine time to collect him from the airport. Wrong. The only night all week that both of them were ready for bed at 6pm and they had to stay awake, get in the car and deal with the heavy emotions of seeing Daddy for the first time in two weeks. Needless to say, a very sleep-deprived second wind was had by both and when we finally got home and ready for real bed, Finn was a wreak and Poppie couldn't stop crying.
And why couldn't Poppie stop crying? Because she had eaten something that bugged her tummy and proceeded to projectile vomit all over her bed, all over herself and all over Daddy, who rushed in to the rescue. She was crying and writhing and in general lapping up the attention for the next hour while Finn demanded mama when Daddy was in the room and Daddy while I was in the room.
Finally, at 11pm, both children were asleep. Poppie was just fine after her episode, but I knew emptying her stomach of all contents didn't bode well for making it through the night and I was so right. So we had a wake-up call at 3 am and then a little boy, dominated by his circadian rhythym that does not listen to the fact that he has only had 6 hours of sleep, joins us at 5am and throws an epic tantrum when we won't get up to play with him, complete with peeing on our floor and throwing Poppie's highchair down the hallway. We got him settled and managed to get him back to sleep with a bottle in our bed and he thanks us by peeing on me and all over the freshly-changed sheets.
I know that transitions are hard for all of us, but this pretty much takes the cake in our life as a family. To make up for it, we are going to have a quiet family dinner and some cozy time reading books on the porch swing and hopefully and early night for all.
Wish us luck.
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